The Whole Town
by Francesca Jones
Summary: Oneshot, after Nick and Nora Sid and Nancy. Why DID Jess steal that lawn gnome?


**Disclaimer: **Not mine. If I was making money off this, you can bet I wouldn't be in so much debt.

**A/N:** This is Sam's fault. She asked the question and when I answered, she smiled pointedly at me, and I simply had no choice but to write this one-shot. Blame Sam! smile Anyway, the question posed was **what's your theory on why Jess stole Babette's gnome? **Here's my answer.

**The Whole Damn Town**

_Desperate for attention_. His middle school guidance counselors had loved to throw that term around in reference to him. His high school ones might have been equally partial to the term, but he would have had to meet with them to know that for sure. By the time he'd gotten into high school, he'd long-since figured out how to blow off meetings with the higher-ups.

Him? Desperate for attention? What a ridiculous notion. He had no idea why they'd said things like that about him. He didn't understand why they said it when he pulled the fire alarm. He didn't understand why they said it when he got into fights. Certainly he couldn't understand why they said it that time that he switched the tape they were supposed to watch in health class with one that was just as anatomically correct.

He couldn't understand why the description popped into his head now, as he walked away from the kitschiest of all the kitschy houses he'd seen since he arrived in Stars Hollow. He couldn't understand why he felt as if maybe he _was_ desperate for attention as he walked down the street with a cloth sack slung over his shoulder, heavy with the weight of a large lawn gnome with a corncob pipe clutched in his fist, perched on a mushroom.

If only those guidance counselors could see him now.

Stars Hollow was a strange place. Strange was the nicest possible word he could think of, and he wasn't prone to using the nicest possible word. Fucking bizarre was a more accurate description, and the one that had been running through his head since he got there.

There was some sort of camaraderie that glued these people together, and frankly, he didn't get it. The only thing that bonded New Yorkers together was a mutual fear of getting mugged. Here though, people looked out for each other. It was almost like they…liked each other. It didn't make any sense to him. He'd been walking down the street when he saw the old, bald man who ran the grocery store chasing down a woman to return an extra dollar he owed her in change.

"Fucking freaks" was what he mumbled under his breath. That was when it struck him though. Everyone looked out for everyone else. So wouldn't it just get the whole block in a huff if a lawn gnome went missing?

Getting the town in a huff seemed like a good goal. Getting everyone worked up into a frenzy over a missing lawn gnome seemed like an excellent way to spend his time and utilize his talents as a troublemaker. No reason he shouldn't start right away. He didn't want anyone here to think he was one of them. Not that there was anyone in particular who he had in mind. There wasn't anyone. He just wanted the whole town to know that he wasn't going to play by their rules. The whole damn town, from the weird guy who sang on street corners to the town princess…not that he had any theories on who the town princess was yet. OK, so maybe he was a little desperate for attention. The important thing though, was that he desperate for attention _in general_. It's not like he was trying to impress anybody. That would be ridiculous.

* * *

"Stupid gnome." Jess mumbled as he lugged it behind him, still in the cloth sack. Luke had apparently been at Lorelai's house when Babette discovered the gnome missing. He'd called the woman right away to tell her that her precious 'Pierpont' was intact, meaning his plan had never gone into full force. No one even had the chance to go into a missing gnome frenzy. Luke had deprived him of the one joy he was trying to find in this psycho town. Now he was on his way back to the scene of the crime to return the damn thing.

"Poor Pierpont." An amused female voice said behind him.

Jess turned around and faced Rory Gilmore, who had her arms crossed over her navy blue cardigan-clad chest. "Hey." He said stoically. "Britney Spears impression?" He nodded at her plaid skirt and knee socks.

Rory smirked. "Private school in Hartford. I heard you were our resident gnome thief."

"I prefer gnome liberator." Jess retorted. "Looks better on a resume."

Rory grinned at him. "Viva la resistance."

Jess smiled at that, actually let a genuine smile crack his features for the first time since he'd arrived in Stars Hollow. The two looked at each other for a moment, not saying anything.

"So why'd you do it?" Rory asked, finally looking away from his gaze. "Stealing copies of Ginsberg too boring for a big city kid like you?"

Jess shrugged. "Bored." He said simply.

"Well at least you had a good reason." Rory said.

"What can I say?" Jess said. "I'm a simple guy."

Rory smiled thoughtfully at him. "Yeah, I bet."

That look was piercing. Did she know? Had she figured him out? Was he caught? Did she see through the polished, rebellious veneer to the heart of an attention-seeker beating underneath. It was a ridiculous thought, and so un-him. Jess pushed it away before he could consider it.

Rory shifted her weight uncomfortably as Jess just continued to look at her with his deep eyes. She toyed with the strap of her backpack and said, "I've got a lot of work to do."

Jess nodded. "I've got a gnome to return."

"Make sure he's facing the ceramic cats or Babette will be upset." Rory lingered for another moment and then said, "See you later."

"Later." Jess called after her as she turned to walk away.

Jess smirked as he removed Pierpont from the bag and placed him on the ground, deliberately facing away from the ceramic cats. As he walked away from his first crime scene, he began wonder what else he could do to get the town's attention. The whole town, of course. It wasn't like he cared about anyone in particular


End file.
